


Midnight Mistake

by Katzenkinder



Series: One Kiss More [2]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, Post-Season/Series 05, swearing is Lucas's love language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzenkinder/pseuds/Katzenkinder
Summary: Eliott and Lucas make plans to go out that but Lucas cancels in a fit of last minute panic. Words are said, feeling are wounded, but both eventually scramble for forgiveness.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Series: One Kiss More [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710556
Comments: 14
Kudos: 155





	Midnight Mistake

A nightclub is the perfect place to hide. Dancers shudder in the flashing lights like stop motion pictures, too self-absorbed in their own fun to take notice of him, and the throbbing bass of the music makes it impossible to think. Eliott’s fine with that. The last thing he wants to do is think. 

_ L 00h15: Where are u? _

_ L 01h10: I'm sorry.  _

_ L 01h19: Please come home.  _

They're old texts. They greet him every time he looks at his phone but he continues to ignore them. He ought to be ashamed of how satisfying it is.

“You’ve been looking at your phone all night.” Iddriss’s voice cuts through him like a knife. He has been game to pretend Eliott's inattention hasn't bothered him but enough's enough. “Don’t you think it’s time to do something?”

“About what?” Eliott snaps, shoving his phone back into his pocket. 

Idriss levels him with a hard ‘cut the bullshit’ look from across the table. It's littered with Eliott's empty bottles of beer. Alcohol and cigarettes eventually took the edge off Eliott's anger but not the bruising hurt. He doesn’t know when or how that will abait. 

“You’re obviously fighting with someone- probably Lucas- or else you wouldn't be sulking in a corner. And, as much as I like catching up, I don’t want you to use this as an excuse to avoid whatever’s going on between you two.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” Eliott continues stubbornly, slipping a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a smart flick of his lighter. “We’re  _ fine _ .”

“Whatever, man. I’m heading out.” He slides out of the booth but lingers, looking torn between dropping the subject and continuing their conversation. “Listen,” he says so gently that Eliott begrudgingly looks up at him, “speaking from experience, don’t fuck up what you have with him over something stupid, ok? I’ll see you later.” He holds out his fist and Eliott reluctantly bumps it with his own. 

Then Idriss disappears into the crowd, leaving Eliott alone to nurse his lukewarm beer, half-smoked cigarette, and bruised ego. He pulls out his phone. The chain of unanswered messages are still there waiting for a response.

_ Please come home. _

He tilts his head back until it thumps against the wall and he stares up at the dark ceiling. There are no more distractions. Idriss is gone and the crowd is thinning out so the hurt he’s been staving off all evening finally comes crashing down like a titlewave.

_ I'm such an asshole _ . 

Telling himself Lucas was the instigator is the easy way out and so he squelches the thought immediately. He's not a complete piece of shit. They both were to blame for this mess. They made plans to go to an art exhibition in Montmartre that evening. He'd been looking forward to this night for weeks because sharing his favorite artist feels like he’s carefully handing over another piece of himself for Lucas to hold and keep safe. But Lucas, in a fit of last minute panic, decides his night will be better spent with books than his boyfriend. 

At first Eliott refuses to take him seriously. He knows how much this means to him, right? He holds onto his boyfriend tight, refusing to let go, and press butterfly kisses against his cheek as if that will somehow change his mind. “Study tomorrow.”

Lucas tries to shrug him off and gets pissed when Elliot doesn’t budge. “Fuck, Eliott, get off already! Just because you didn’t give a shit about your exams, doesn’t mean I don't have to either.”

That does it.

Eliott jerks back as if Lucas had slapped him. Everything goes still inside his brain then just as quickly anger, red-hot and violent, detonates like a bomb inside him. He wants to lash out so badly-verbally and physically. It takes all he had not to react because, god, even in the mood he is in he knows that would be a severe mistake.

Is that what Lucas thought? That he didn’t care about school? That he was stupid? He knows better than anyone else he fucked up when he missed his exam, but it hadn’t been intentional. He’d been in the hospital. 

He trusted that Lucas would never throw it in his face but suddenly Lucas reminds him of Lucille and he’s terrified. She always knew the words that hurt him the most while simultaneously saying she loved him. Had he ended one toxic relationship only to end up in a similar situation? Eliott wants to panic and cry. Why couldn't this time be different?

If Lucas realizes he said anything inappropriate, he doesn’t show it. His eyes remain stormy, his jaw set. “I need to study,” he repeats firmly. 

Eliott leaves without a word. He wants to get out as quickly as he fucking can before he does something that can’t be fixed with an apology. He skulks around the city for a while and ends up in a nightclub when he exhausts himself. It’s dark and busy so he can brood in the shadows without drawing attention to himself. Idriss, however, spots him a little while later and keeps him company, chatting about this and that, staying away from too many questions. 

“We’re closing soon,” a tattooed waitress announces, dragging Eliott kicking and screaming back to reality. “Are you ready to settle your tab or what?”

Eliott reluctantly hands over his card. He's not keen on going back home but it’s two in the morning and he's fucking tired. Maybe he can sneak in and sleep on the couch for a couple of hours before fucking off again. He could see his parents. Even if they weren't there he had a spare key and could chill here until he figures out how to make things right with Lucas. As he waits for the waitress to bring back his card he unlocks his phone. He wants to check the text messages again but stops when he sees his wallpaper. It's a candid photo of Lucas snapped mid-laugh. It never fails to make his heart swell with love. 

_ Fuck. _

He knows what to do. He takes a deep breath and dials Lucas's number. 

"Hey."

"Hey." On the other end of the line Lucas's voice is horribly neutral but guarded. Eliott’s stomach drops. 

"I'm on my way home...Um... I'll see you in a few?”

The metro's eerily quiet as he makes his way home and so is the apartment building. It’s too early for anyone to be up unless you're actively avoiding going home. His feet feel as heavy as lead bricks as he climbs. He doesn't know what to do to make things right between them but this is a good step in the right direction at least

“Lucas?”

“I’m here.” Lucas’ face crumples as he crosses the kitchen and dives straight into Elliot’s arm. The force of the hug knocks the wind out of him and he stumbles back. Lucas follows, unwilling to let him go. “Where were you?” His face is pressed against Eliott’s neck and his erratic breathing sounds like a storm in his ear. “You didn't text me back and you weren't at the bridge. I was so fucking worried.”

“I went to a club. I ended up meeting Idriss.”

Lucas pulls back just enough to look at him with his impossibly blue eyes. He's pale, haggard and his eyelids are rimmed with red. He’s an absolutely wreck. Eliott buries his nose in Lucas’ hair and kisses him gently. It had been cruel to let him worry for so long. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

Lucas sucks in a deep breath as if trying to swallow down a sob. He’s seconds away from breaking down. Tears are welling up Lucas' eyes and threatening to roll down his face. "Just….don't run off like that again, ok? Even if you're mad, even if you hate the sight of my face,  _ please _ just let me know you're safe and if you're coming back, ok?"

Eliott feels like a real piece of shit. "I'd never leave you."

Lucas’s unconvinced look frightens Eliott so he stoops so low that their foreheads are pressed together and their noses touch. "Lucas,” he whispers. “I promise I won't."

“Even if I say something stupid?”

Eliott hugs him against his chest. Year-old memories come rushing back to him. The innumerable hours of revising and the sleepless nights. The panic. The stress. The anxiety. It burdened him months leading up to the Bac before he finally snapped. He doesn’t want Lucas to go through the same thing.

“You're not stupid. You’re fucking stressed, Lucas, and I get it. I do.”

“I don’t want you to  _ get it _ ,” he hisses. “I know you don’t like talking about what happened to you.”

“I passed the second time.”

“Pass. Fail. I don’t fucking care about that. I hurt you-really hurt you and don’t say I didn’t-and I’m sorry.”

“Seriously, Lucas. Don’t.”

Lucas’ head snaps up, blue eyes tempestuous. "Will you shut up and let me fucking apologize to you?"

Ah, there's the Lallemant spirit. "Fine," Eliott concedes, allowing a tiny smile. "I forgive you."

The fire dies in Lucas and he sags against Eliott once more. They are quiet for a moment, content to be held because they are still a little too raw to let go. “I hate fighting with you.”

Eliott can’t agree more. Cutting off a finger would be less painful than this. “It’s fucking terrible.”

“We both messed up tonight.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“But we’re ok, right?”

“Of course, mon amour."

The reassurance makes Lucas smile but it's a tired one. Eliott can’t help but cup his face and kiss him. "Wanna go to bed?"

"Yeah. If I look at one more book I'm throwing them out the window and running away.”

“Oh, yeah? Where to?”

“Corsica."

"Good choice," Eliott approves as they make their way to the bedroom. Lucas sounds so sure that he must have given the idea some serious thought. “We can become pirates.”

Lucas snorts. "Gay pirates. My dad would  _ love _ that."

"Maybe we can go after your exams? I've got a cousin who lives there."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. You ace the Bac and we'll go to Corsica."

Lucas laughs and flops down on their bed. "I'm going to hold you to your word, Demaury,” he says as he holds his arms out, fingers wiggling in the air. Eliott slips off his shoes and jacket and dives into Lucas's arms because there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Not even goddamn Corsica.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
